Ronins At My High School
by Shila
Summary: A kind of joke about what would happen if the Ronins went to my high school. not a m-s. RNR please!


This is just some fic thing that I started, never finished, and probably won't. It's still funny.  
  
  
  
By all the darkest gods, I hate Monday mornings.  
  
After purposely sleeping late and bumming a ride to school (those assholes ride my bus, I don't need it that early in the morning), I got to my first hour late and had to suck up to Miss Minger to get her to let me in and sing. You see I've got chorus first hour some days, and gym first hour other days. Block scheduling is totally screwed. Normally I love choir - but two of them are in it.  
  
Let me do a bit of explaining. They're freshmen, all five, but they seem to think they're just so damn cool. One even keeps hitting on me but I can't get it through his thick skull that not only am I gay, I've got a girlfriend. He's in my choir. He's got blonde hair and ice fucking cold blue-purple-gray eyes that actually kind of scare me. I've almost gotten into fights with him a number of times. (He hits on me - and my girlfriend. That I will not tolerate. It took Bootz, Spazz, Mousey, Clarebear, and Little Nicky to peel me off of him. It took all his friends to stop him from smashing my face in too. Though I did get a nice handful of hair, which is now framed on my wall.) I hate that damn tenor of his. My soprano is so much better.  
  
The other one in chorus with me is the least bad of the five. He's got brown hair and he's actually kind of cute, if you're into guys. He's got a nice voice, when The Finger can get him to sing. He's sweet but quiet - I think the poor kid's been abused - but his friends seem pretty protective of him and watch carefully to make sure nobody hurts him. I think he's stronger than they realize. I think his name is Psi. Probably not how it's spelled but it's pronounced like the weapon.  
  
The other three - um, one of them is named Rowin, Rowen, whatever - he's in all my academic classes and seems surprised that I get better scores than he does. He's got blue hair. I bet it's fake.  
  
The black-haired one is really spunky and easy to piss off - fiery, I guess you could say - and he doesn't like me. Not at all. He's always shooting me nasty glances. Maybe it's cause the blonde hits on me and Blackie has a crush on Blondie. I'll bet so. He looks like one hell of a faggyboy (that's a good thing, in my book, don't get yer boxers in a bunchin') and Joe-baby is always watching him too.  
  
The last one is kind of chunky with hair that just won't say the same damned color. Psi calls him Kento (these guys have got some weird ass names, their mothers must have been on crack or at least serious medication) and that's the only way I can figure to spell that one. He thinks he's all cool. He's not. It's funny.  
  
Well got into choir and took my place, and as usual blasted Blondie away with the power of my voice and won the approval of The Finger. She loves me, the damned bitch, but being a teacher's pet is a good thing. Plus I like singing. Voila, instant A.  
  
After our latest rendition of "Kyrie Eleison" (I hate that song, it makes me want to puke) me and Parker and Austa went into the little side room where we like to sing and practice in a soprano trio. Anyway we were in the middle of "Once Upon A December" when Blondie walks in, pretty as you please. Austa is instantly drooling - did I mention every girl in the school (minus me and Bootz and Lizzie-chan) has the hots for this guy? Well thay do. So when he asked if he could join us, Parker and Austa were tripping over themselves to tell him yes.  
  
I still blasted him away.  
  
Second hour starts in ten, end of first hour bell just rang. I'm in the cafeteria (where the Freaks hang out - me and my friends) and guess who prances in? All five of them like a damn train. They plop thier little freshie asses at Spazz's table and I just sity back and grin, waiting for the inevitable. (No freshman claims a senior's table. It's just... not allowed. And if they do, they're garbage can bait.)  
  
Spazz didn't say a damn word.  
  
I staggered to geometry blinking and in shock.  
  
Bluey walked in a millisecond before the bell rings (a zillisecond before my buddy George walks in) and plopped himself down in Mallory's seat. I glanced over at him and rolled my eyes. "Dumb freshman."  
  
He leaned over and grinned at me. "What's your number, babes?"  
  
I just smirked. "1-900- Y-O-U W-I-S-H." He sneered and watched Miss Jeffers walk in. I blew him away in the proofs and when our tests were passed back, he got a perfect score. He showed it to me grinning. I showed him mine - with the above-perfect score (thank you miss jeffers and the gods of extra credit) - and grinned right back. Smoke poured out his ears until the bell rang.  
  
I walked off to lunch. 


End file.
